Almost a love song
by noacheinthesoul
Summary: "This is what dying feels like, you think, as you watch a golden head rest against a dark head. " Pairings: Merlin/Arthur, Arthur/Gwen Warnings: Slash, Heavy angst.
1. Chapter 1

Almost a love song

Disclaimer: Don't own Merlin. I wish!

Author's note: So, first time posting- in any fandom- and would really appreciate feedback!

_Loneliness is my only friend  
Faithful and constant to the end  
when I look back at happiness  
I will remember you…  
We were almost a love song, hey..._

I wish that I could bring you back to me  
you're my missing melody…  
I wish my words could move your heart to see-  
That you belong here next to me…

As the wind keeps gently sighing,  
With every breath your name I'm crying…

_-Almost a love song_

_Ricky Martin_

This is what dying feels like, you think, as you watch a golden head rest against a dark head. You clench your fists, too tired, too _jaded_ to even feel the familiar spark of _angerjealousywant _that looking at them always brings thrumming to the surface. You don't think you can do this anymore. The pain is too much to bear.

You continue to look at them- the so-in-fucking-love couple- and you're suddenly forced to push your magic back inside, back to where it can never harm the one person it was always supposed to protect.

_Arthur_.

Even the name causes shivers to run down your spine. You watch (in a masochist way), hidden behind a pillar (_always _hidden, always _unnoticed_) as Arthur raises his hand to brush the dark curls away from Gwen's forehead. You close your eyes, not wanting to see anymore, as Arthur leans in- but the image is burned behind your eyelids and plays out in vivid Technicolor anyway.

For a moment, you hate them. Both of them, supposed to be your best friends (but ironically, neither ever notices the pain behind your eyes, or your forced smiles). What good friends they were!

You swallow audibly, and when you open your eyes, Gwaine is there beside you, looking at you with such pity in his eyes that you turn away, curling into yourself instinctively, not wanting to see such a look directed towards you.

"Merlin," he whispers gently, "I'm sorry".

You choke out a laugh, or try to at least. You know you don't fool anyone as the sound issued from your mouth was the farthest thing from a laugh.

"Me too," you whisper, leaning your forehead against the cool stone of the pillar, eyes tracing every line of the King's form as he dances with his new Queen, never knowing his man-servant would give anything, _anything_ to be in her place. "Me too," you whisper again, throat constricting tightly, and don't say anything else. Gwaine puts his hand on your shoulder in a comforting gesture, but even that makes the reality more _real _and a little more part of you dies inside.

"Let's go," he says then, gently tugging, and you let him pull you away- away from the most painful night of your miserable life. You leave Arthur behind (but know that, _fuckinggoddamn destiny_ will never let that become true.)


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Don't own Merlin. I wish!**

**Author's note: So, first time posting- in any fandom- and would really appreciate feedback!**

**And a big thanks to those who reviewed, and favorited the story. You made my day! **

Gwaine sighed and looked to his side. Merlin was walking with him only because he had his arm in a tight grip. Earlier, when he'd seen him leaning against the pillar, gaze fixed on the newly-weds, he'd looked so miserable that Gwaine's heart had gone out to him. He'd tried to not let pity be seen in his eyes as he apologized (for the prat Arthur, he just _knew_ the nobles were never worth it) but had failed as Merlin had turned away from him. The choked sound which had issued from his lips had torn at Gwaine, tugging and tugging on his heartstrings. He hated to see Merlin like this, just hated it. Merlin was all that was good left in Camelot, and he knew that should Merlin choose to leave, he'd follow him wherever he went without a backward glance to the King, knighthood be damned. Merlin was his friend first and foremost above all, (and was his only friend, the only person who he'd gladly die for).

So, in order to just try and ease some of his pain, he's decided to drag the young man to his most favorite place – the tavern. Merlin had taken one look at the path on which they were and had started protesting loudly, but he was not going to let that deter him (he couldn't let Merlin be alone right now, not now when he was so vulnerable.) And so they ended up at the Rising Sun, with two tankards of ale in front of them. His was almost half empty, but Merlin's was barely touched, as the man in question proceeded to glare into the drink, as if that were the cause of all his problems.

Sighing loudly, he reached out a hand and waved it in front of Merlin. Merlin blinked, and looked at him. "Are you going to drink that? If not, let me do the honor. It'd be such a waste to leave it like that," he said with his famous devil-may-care smile. Merlin's lips twitched, but he didn't do anything except push the tankard towards him.

Getting a little annoyed at his lack-luster manner, Gwaine finally snapped, "Would you quit moping? It's not the end of the world! If you want to know my opinion, then it's best that he got married to her. I mean, face it- he's an arrogant sod, and she's a bit of a slut. A match made in heaven! I say you should cut your losses and thank the god you escaped from his clutches! God only knows how much else he'd have made you suffer at his princely hands had you been with him." Taking a deep breath after his long rant, he looked at Merlin to see his reaction, and found him looking at him in an incredulous manner, mouth hanging open like a fish.

"I'm sorry but did you just call Gwen a slut?" Merlin asked in disbelief.

Gwaine nodded. "She is kind of a slut. I mean look- she hit on you when you first came here, then totally dropped you and turned half her affections to Arthur and half to Lancelot. She even flirted with me! So all in all, she's a bit boy-mad," he finished triumphantly.

Merlin continued looking at him as if he was touched in the head. Gwaine merely sipped at his ale, and leaned back with a devious grin on his face. Slowly, Merlin broke into a smile, and the tight fist around Gwaine's heart loosened a little. Merlin's smile had always been special. It had the ability to light up an entire room with its cheerfulness, and yet this smile didn't touch his eyes. Still it was a tiny start, and Gwaine wondered how long it would take to piece him back together. He was willing to do whatever it took to get his friend back.

Still smiling softly, Merlin looked at him and he could see the genuine affection he had for him reflected in those blue, blue eyes. His own smile softened at that, and he suddenly wished to just go and throw a gauntlet down in front of Arthur and challenge him to death for ever causing pain to this kind-hearted man sitting in front of him. But he knew Merlin would never forgive him if he ever harmed a single golden hair on the prat's head. Life was seriously unfair.

So busy was he in his contemplations that he didn't hear Merlin calling his name. "What?" he asked finally realizing he'd been calling him for some time now.

"I have to go," Merlin said, looking down at his hands, wringing them nervously.

"Go?" Gwaine asked puzzled. "Where?"

"Don't know. Anywhere that's not here. I can't stay here anymore Gwaine, I just can't."

Gwaine just stared at him, feeling a cold hand clench his heart. "You'll leave me here?" The _alone_ was implied.

"I'll be back, you know that. I just- ," he broke off, voice cracking, and Gwaine understood it, understood why he had to go.

"Go," he said, surprised at the tender way the word came out.

Merlin looked up at him then, unshed tears glimmering in his eyes. He tried to smile, but couldn't, the ache in his chest a foreign emotion.

"Just promise me that you'll be safe."

"I promise you Gwaine. And I will come back. Don't worry about me, I'll be fine. You better not empty all the beer and ale in the city by the time I return though!" he half-heartedly admonished, the tears in his eyes clumping the eyelashes wetly.

Gwaine stood up then, and in a swift move pulled him in a bear hug. He took a deep breath, trying to memorize the way Merlin felt in his arms, and trying to capture the smell of wind and freshly-cut grass which always seemed to surround him. Merlin hugged him back tightly, and then he was pulling away and smiling brokenly up at him, and before he knew it, was gone. The door to the tavern gently clicked shut, as if with an air of finality.

Gwaine blinked, and raised his hand to his cheek. It came away wet. _Damn you Merlin, damn you. You made me cry._


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Don't own Merlin. I wish!**

**Author's note: **

**A big thanks again to those who reviewed and favorited the story. You made my day! And please do me a favor, and tell me if I'm getting the characterizations right. That's my biggest concern :S. (Especially Gwaine, cause I love him!)**

**Warnings: Character death (not Merlin or Arthur), more angst**

_Take a breath,  
I pull myself together;  
Just another step till I reach the door  
You'll never know the way it tears me up inside to see you  
I wish that I could tell you something  
To take it all away…_

Sometimes I wish I could save you,  
And there're so many things that I want you to know…  
I won't give up till it's over;  
If it takes you forever I want you to know…

_**-Save you**_

_**Simple Plan**_

You rip yourself away from Gwaine's embrace, smile up at him wobbly and before he can stop you, you rush out. The door swings shut gently behind you and you stand there for a moment and take a deep breath. Your magic is churning, rushing along your extremities and coalescing in your fingertips and for a moment, you think to let it out. But then reality intrudes and you collect it all back inside you where it hums gently, warming you up from the inside. Still, it's of no use to ease the ever-present ache in your heart- deep and twisting and oh-so-agonizing. You let out a shuddering breath and then turn towards the gates leading out- out of Camelot and far, far away from _Arthur_.

You think you probably should tell someone you won't be coming back for a while, but all the people who actually matter (Arthur and Gwen) are the ones you are fleeing from and Gaius-

Oh God.

_Gaius_.

You choke back a sob threatening to rip out, and muffle your mouth in your sleeve. Gaius- wise, gentle, sweet _Gaius, _your surrogate father (the only father you ever had the chance to know) is dead. Whatever part of your heart not crushed by Arthur, splinters and shatters further because the one man in the entire world who you always looked up to, and who you knew always had your back, no matter what, is _dead_. If you meet Morgana now, you know that you will kill her without any hesitation. Gaius died because of her; he died in a fucking goddamn _dungeon_ because the bitch couldn't be bothered to feed him.

You ball up your fists and blink back furious tears, dimly amazed that you still have some left (that your tear-ducts still continue to function when _you_ are already broken inside.)

No, there really was no one left for you in Camelot (Gwaine didn't count, since you just told him).

Straightening up to your full height you start to walk. You don't look back, just keep on walking and walking, the only thought in your mind to get far, far away from here. You walk until your magic fizzes and breaks you out of the trance you had fallen into and realize your feet had unwittingly led you to the same clearing where you always summoned Kilgarrah. But you can't summon him now. You won't (_can't_) let the Great Dragon see you in such a state- you revere him too much to allow that.

Finally you let your magic out of the tenuous hold you have on it, and sigh deeply as it runs –_flows_- happily out of you and surrounds you in a warm golden cocoon. A faint smile touches your lips briefly at the warmth of the pseudo-embrace; before the golden glow reminds you of the way sunlight glints off Arthur's spun-gold hair and you suppress a sob, and bring up your fist to smother the cry. But it seems as if a dam has burst and you let the anguish and pain wash over you as you bawl your sorrows out to the dark night sky. You scream and rail and beat the ground with your fists at the bloody _unfairness_ of it all and slowly sink down till your forehead touches the ground. The tears have started to flow, but you don't even realize it, as you sob and cry and let out all the pain which you had been holding back for so, _so_ long out. You let it envelop you (just as your magic had done moments ago, but such contrasting emotions they were) and you curl up into yourself, and bring your knees to your chest as if to ward off some of the pain. But the pain never leaves, and helplessly, you cry yourself to sleep (the _one_ place where Arthur will ever look at you in a way which's more than that of a friend or servant).


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Don't own Merlin. I wish!**

**Author's note: **

**I got no reviews for the last chapter. Sadly, it looks like no one's reading my story :'(. Still, for the sake of those who favorited, here's the latest chapter. **

* * *

The Great Dragon had been playing with Aithusa when he first felt it.

Faint tendrils of pain were climbing up around his heart. Kilgarrah stopped chasing Aithusa for a moment. He knew it couldn't be his pain; his mate had been dead for a long time for that pain to resurface. Plus he was the only surviving adult dragon left (Aithusa wasn't old enough yet for him to feel his emotions). That left only one other option. The pain he was feeling was an echo; echo of the pain felt by his soul's brother – Merlin's.

Leaving Aithusa to gambol around, he took to the skies, his huge wings covering leagues within seconds and followed the tug on his heart, leading him straight to Merlin.

Kilgarrah found the young warlock curled up on himself in the same clearing where he was always summoned by him when in time of need. Ironically though, when Merlin was the most in pain, he didn't summon him. That showed how little the young man, holding the destiny of the _entire Albion_ in his hands, cared about himself. He was too good, too selfless, and that was the reason for his current state, Kilgarrah mused to himself as he watched him critically.

Gently settling beside the slight form, Kilgarrah folded his majestic wings and spoke, "What is troubling you so, young Warlock?"

It seemed Merlin was even more out of it than he had thought, because he jerked up at the sound of his voice and stared up at him blearily. Kilgarrah frowned to himself. He hadn't even felt the dragon's approach? Usually he was able to tell from miles away. He focused more intensely on the young warlock, and saw the still-wet tears tracks in sharp focus across the pale high cheekbones.

"Kilgarrah?" Merlin said in shock. "How did- I didn't summon you!"

"No you certainly didn't," Kilgarrah admonished gently, the _but you should have _implied at the end. "Whatever is troubling you so much alerted me to your sorrow."

Merlin looked down then, face twisting in misery, and Kilgarrah knew he was blaming himself for disturbing him. "Do not fret so, young warlock. You know I will fly to the ends of the earth for you, at your slightest command. I couldn't _not_ come when I felt your pain, especially if there was something I could help you with."

Merlin half-smiled at that, and looked up at the majestic beast again. "I do know that, Kilgarrah, and for that you have my eternal gratitude. But I'm sorry for the trouble I caused."

"Never mind that, Merlin. Now tell me, what seems to be the problem?"

Merlin didn't reply for a long time, looking down at his twisting fingers in apparent nerves. Instead, he finally took a deep breath, and then looking into his eyes, opened his consciousness to him.

Kilgarrah reared back in surprise, not expecting the sudden onslaught of feelings and emotions rushing to him from the link formed with Merlin.

_Pain_.

_So_ much pain- choking him up. Betrayal, anger, guilt, jealousy, want, longing, _painpainpain…_

With a roar Kilgarrah broke the link. He breathed out fire steadily for a minute, pointing towards the sky to avoid harming the man below him. After a moment, he turned his head to look at the broken soul he'd come to think of as one of his own. For so long he had no one and when Merlin came, it was like a breath of fresh air. A being with power and magic thrumming beneath the surface, magic powerful enough to defeat even a dragon. He hadn't known that he was Balinor's son; else he never would have tried to harm him. Balinor had been a friend, through and through, and only Uther's treachery had managed to break the bond between the dragonlord and him. Even then, at the risk of his own life, Balinor had saved him. And now, his son was hurting and that pained Kilgarrah more than he could express.

"Merlin," he said as softly as he could (which still came out as a rumble much to his consternation), "You have to stop punishing yourself, or blaming yourself. Arthur cannot be the king he has to become, unless he has you by his side."

"I know," Merlin wept, "I know that. That's why I have to leave now. I can't stand to see him now. Both of them. It makes me want to hurl and use my magic to show him just how much he's hurt me. But the fact is he doesn't even know that I love him. He doesn't even know that he has hurt me so much. He doesn't even know…" he trailed off, staring past Kilgarrah with a sheen in his eyes.

Kilgarrah sighed deeply, wanting to comfort Merlin more than anything. It had been so many years since he had last experienced the trials of love, and he doubted his were the same as that of Merlin. Lifting one wing, he covered the young warlock and gently pulled him to rest against his side. He couldn't help the wave of affection and fondness that washed over him when Merlin curled up against him, one arm clutching tightly against the scales.

They stayed like that for a long time, both just breathing and taking comfort from the fact that they had each other. He knew Merlin was feeling the loss of his guardian very strongly, and felt slightly guilty that he had not come to see him earlier. Still, he was here now, and he made a promise to himself that he'd take care of him from now on. He was the same as Aithusa, young and vulnerable, and it was his duty to protect them from any the harm that could possibly hurt them.

Merlin was special, not only because he heralded the coming of a new era. He was special, because he was strong and loyal- like his father- and also had the compassion and kindness of his mother (Balinor had told him about Hunith). He was the best of both of them, and was the most powerful warlock alive, yet he was innocent and had the purest heart and soul. _That_ made him the man he was now. He was special, and Kilgarrah was determined to see that he once again became the cheerful lad he was when he had first met him. He would help Merlin regain himself back. For Albion. And most importantly, Kilgarrah would help for _his_ own sake.

* * *

**A/N: Review please, even if it's a single word!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Don't own Merlin. I wish!**

**Author's note:**

**Got so many reviews for the last chapter! Thank you so much! And I know that many of you are eager to see what's happening back in Camelot, but I had this thing in mind to do alternate chapters with Merlin's POV. Next chapter, we get to see Arthur!**

_I found a place so safe, not a single tear;_

_The first time in my life and now it's so clear…_

_Feel calm, I belong,_

_I'm so happy here-_

_It's so strong and now I let myself be sincere__ …_

___I wouldn't change a thing about it_

_This is the best feeling__ …_

_This innocence is brilliant,_

_I hope that it will stay_

_This moment is perfect, please don't go away…_

_-Innocence_

_Avril Lavigne_

_Emrys._

The word floats in the still night, curling over you like wisps of smoke.

_Emrys._

It sounds like a million voices speaking together at once, coalescing into a sibilant hiss that jerks you up from your sleep. For a moment, you are disconcerted- not recognizing the warm, comfortable feeling you feel on waking. Then you spot the thick, scaly wing draped across you and realization dawns. _Kilgarrah._ You smile to yourself, realizing the Great Dragon had been uncharacteristically concerned, and shown great patience in dealing with your puerile emotions.

With great care, you extract yourself from underneath the slumbering dragon, and stare at the huge creature. You feel a wave of affection and appreciation well up inside of you, and conjure a light, and leave it to float next to him. He'll know you are safe, you think, and turn to follow the mysterious voice beckoning you.

_Emrys._

You follow the voice (or is it voices, you muse to yourself) and walk further into the forest surrounding the clearing. The voice keeps guiding you inside and inside the forest (_Come Emrys, come_) till the light of the moon barely penetrates the thick canopy of trees overhead.

You see a cave in the distance, and it seems as if the voice is guiding you there. Slowly, you make your way to the entrance, and the dark interior doesn't seem foreboding at all. With calmness in every fiber of your being, you walk inside till there's no more to go. You stand still, waiting, and in the next moment, a group of robed figures appear as if from nowhere around you.

The leader of the group removes his hood and speaks as usual, in your mind.

"Emrys. Come with us."

You gaze at the earnest stare directed towards you, and slowly nod. It's not like there is anywhere else you can go, to be honest. You can't go back to Ealdor, that's the first place Arthur would look for you. And if you're being fair to yourself, you would rather go to a place where you can be yourself (be who you really are), and be one with your magic, rather than go to a place where you are condemned by everyone.

You make the decision, and look into the calm eyes staring at you. "I'll come with you," you say, and the smile which blooms across the leader's face tugs an answering one from you.

He moves towards you, and reaches out a hand to rest on your shoulder. In a flash, the world around you dissolves, and when you next open your eyes, the sight that greets you robs you of breath.

A green field stretches out as far as you can see, surrounded by trees which are in full bloom, colorful flowers and luscious fruits hangs from them. A bubbling book meanders its way in the middle of the field, and there are tents all around it. People, _Druids_, more than you had ever seen in such a small space, move unhurriedly, going about their business. It's so peaceful, and the calm which you enforced upon yourself becomes real and tangible. The best thing about the place though, was the magic. _Pure magic_, around and inside and above and below, and your own magic was rushing up, out of you (out of the control you _always_, always had on it) to mingle with that of the earth, and it feels so… _safe_.

It feels like…_home_.

You grin then, letting all your restrains break, and embrace the magic tingling all around you. Your eyes close, involuntarily, at the mere feel of so much power, and the gushing warmth and comfort it brings.

When you open your eyes, you see that you are glowing, and all the people have stopped their work to stare at you. But the stare is not one of contempt, or disgust. It's one of _sheer awe_, and amazement. It's filled with all the things in your life which make magic good and _pure_ and tears of happiness rise unbidden in your eyes.

You start, when all the people who had surrounded you drop to one knee. Each and every face, young as well as old, looks at you with hope shining in their eyes. As one, they all raise their right hand, and a deep voice booms in your head, "_Emrys_. We are yours to serve, and yours to protect. We swear our fealty to you and you alone."

The shock of such loyalty proves too much and you drop down to your knees in their midst. With tears streaming down your cheeks, you manage to say, "As you are mine, I am yours. I swear to you that I will protect you, at any cost."

Smiles bloom up on all the faces, and again as one, the Druids rise and the moment is broken. It's a momentous occasion for you, and you continue to sit there, gazing as the people go back to their work.

_Your_ people.

You smile to yourself then. Maybe, just maybe you can forget Camelot (for a while). Arthur had Gwen now, he doesn't need to anymore, except to save his ungrateful ass sometimes. You will go back, you know that in your heart, but for now, you have found a place to belong. You can let go and be yourself here. Be who you are, and become who you were meant to be.

Maybe, just _maybe_, you can become _whole_ again.

**A/N: I've got externals coming up so won't be able to update till 19****th****!**


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